


Siren Shelter

by Catie_Electro_x



Category: The Mighty Boosh (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - World War II, Anal Sex, Angst, Forbidden Love, Gay Sex, M/M, Transgender, World War II
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-07
Updated: 2015-10-21
Packaged: 2018-03-16 20:04:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3501152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Catie_Electro_x/pseuds/Catie_Electro_x
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's the war and Howard is fed up of his boring routine. On his way back from work, the sirens go off, and he's forced into a stuffy little shelter two streets from where he lives. That's when he sees her....</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Two Streets Away

**Author's Note:**

  * For [KittieHill](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KittieHill/gifts).



> This is something I started a while back for the lovely KittieHill, and so I'm going to upload it in the hopes that it'll compel me to finish it x

Howard sighed heavily as the air raid sirens signalled the arrival of enemy planes over the skies of London. This was the third raid this week, and it wasn’t even Friday yet; they were becoming more frequent. Wrapping his long brown trench coat around himself tighter, he took off at a slight jog to the nearest shelter.

 

As he stepped foot inside of the shelter, he spotted a free spot to sit down next to the wall. He was one of the first people inside so as he sat down, Howard removed his hat, and sat leaning against the wall. He had the feeling this was going to be a long wait.

 

He kept his coat on, due to the cold air of the shelter. Even though it was warmer than the biting frost outside, the shelter wasn’t exactly airtight, and so as a result, was incredibly draughty.

 

Howard hated sitting in the shelters. He knew they were safer than the outside warzone, but Howard hated having his personal space invaded, and in the shelters there was hardly room to move for people. Howard knew that he’d just have to try his best to block them out, and so he sat, pressed up against the wall as much as he could, looking down at his brown hat, which he held in his lap.

 

He was turning it over, and stroking the brim lovingly in his hands, when the bombs started. The tension in the tiny room shifted, as people silently started to listen to the bombs falling, trying to gauge their distance. A young couple began holding each other, wrapping their limbs tightly around one another. They began whispering small comforts to each other as the bombings went on, each enfolding each other in the safety of one another’s arms.

 

**That won’t be enough to save you if a bomb falls on us.**

 

Howard’s cynical thoughts were interrupted, by the loud and obnoxious voice of a man who was sat opposite to him. The contrived and intolerable nasal quality of the man’s voice cut through the atmosphere of the entire room, pulling the focus of everyone present to him. Howard heard the brash voice filling the room, and was instantly annoyed.

 

“This is a nightmare. Dennis is going to be furious. We’re already running late!”

 

Looking across at who had spoken, Howard was slightly taken aback by the inconspicuousness of the man before him. The man in question, was tall with broad shoulders, he had lightly coloured skin with a dark wardrobe, and perched atop his unruly hair, was a hat with a feather coming out of the top. He seemed to be the type of man that Howard would avoid if ever it came to blows, as he’d probably end up hitting someone with a handbag. Howard laughed slightly at his own ridiculousness; thinking of a man dressed up like a woman with a handbag. As he was thinking of such an absurd image, a high, yet irritated, voice answered the first.

 

“Well it’s not like we’re going to walk through bombs just to avoid being late is it?”

 

Howard flicked his gaze over to the person sat next to the mysterious man, and he was met with the sight of one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen. She had long black hair, which fell to her slight shoulders, leading down to the slender frame of her torso. The clothes she was wearing were fitted, her jacket belted across, dipping in to show her tiny waist. Her spotted blouse was peeking out of the top of the jacket, and her fitted skirt showed off the luscious curve of her thighs. The skirt finished just below her knees, showing her stockings on her legs, before Howard looked over her dainty feet; clad in shoes that were closed off, but with a small heel, boosting her height slightly.

 

Her face was pale and slim, with cheeks that hinted at a slight blush, and impossibly blue eyes. Her lips were rosy red, and she had a slight pale lilac shimmer on her rather large eyelids, which were framed with thick, heavy black lashes. The only imperfection on her striking face, was her rather crooked nose, which looked like it had been broken more than once. It seemed rather pointy and large on such a petite specimen, yet Howard could not help but feel that without it, her face would not be so visually prominent.

 

Howard had never seen a vision more gorgeous, and yet, he knew, that he would not have the courage to go over and talk to such a divine beauty. A woman as classy as her would never look twice at a man like Howard. Nylon trousers, tweed jacket, cardigan vest, butterfly-collared shirt and cheap brogues; everything _about_ Howard screamed teacher. A lady of such class as this woman would not be single anyhow; she was simply too beautiful. She was probably with the tall darker skinned man sat next to her; Howard tried to put his mind elsewhere.

 

“Urgh. I can just hear Tony’s voice now. If Dennis gives it to him, I am going to be furious. No. That’s unacceptable. If he gives it to Tony, then _that_ will be an outrage.” Continued the ramblings of the flashy man.

 

The woman rolled her eyes, before saying – with more authority than Howard would’ve imagined in her singsong voice: “Oh just shut up.”

 

The bombings went on for around two hours, every now and again dust shaking loose from the roof with the force of the shakes the bombs had caused. Howard couldn’t help himself, and through the course of his time in the shelter, he found his eyes continued to drift across from where he was sat, so that he was looking over at the vision seated opposite him; convinced she was going to disappear, like a mirage. The bombs soon stopped, and the sound of the planes faded, leaving everyone in the shelter to breathe a sigh of relief. Then the siren signalling that it was safe to leave the shelters started up, and people began to slowly make their way out of the shelter.

 

Howard remained until the majority of people cleared out of the shelter; not in any particular rush to get home, and not wanting to press up against people in order to squeeze out of the tiny single file door. Looking over to the other people who had decided to wait for everybody else to pour out, Howard noticed the beautiful young woman was still seated with her darker skinned lover.

 

“Well, we’re going to have to go and phone Dennis. There’s no way we can do the deal tonight now.” Came the slightly irked and nasally voice of the man sat next to the stunning creature that had stolen Howard’s heart.

 

Howard looked at her for a minute, still studying her striking features in the dim light. Whilst Howard was still looking at her, she turned, and Howard was met by the full intensity of her large blue eyes, staring straight into his. He blinked a couple of times, unnerved at being caught. Rather than flee, or call him out upon it, the lady offered Howard a smile that was almost shy; batting her thick lashes prettily, as the corners of her mouth tugged upwards in an unsure gesture of warmth.

 

Mortified at having been caught staring at the woman, Howard immediately stood up, straightening his clothing as his did so, and – in a truly masculine manner of course – fled the shelter, and the beautiful woman that remained concealed inside.

 

\---

 

Howard had just finished work, and was on his way home to mark the work of his students, when the sirens went off again. _Where do they get this much ammo?_

 

Walking into the shelter, he noticed the beautiful woman already seated in the same spot where she had been two nights ago. This time however, she was alone, without her supposed lover. Upon seeing her, Howard stopped, therefore blocking all of the people behind him from entering the shelter. As someone loudly told him to get a move on, the woman noticed the commotion in the doorway, and looked directly at Howard.

 

Blushing furiously, Howard mumbled apologies to the people behind him, and very quickly rushed forward to sit down, his head bowed embarrassedly. As he sat down he could feel the eyes of the woman staring at him, wrapping his coat around him securely he realised that he had left his hat back at the school. He groaned slightly as he realised it was Friday, and so he would have to wait until after the weekend to go and get it.

 

He heard a slight laugh, and looking up, he realised that it was the woman again. Looking at her face, he could see her smirking; looking directly at him. He felt a rush of anger. How dare she laugh at him! She had no right. She didn’t even know who he was! What gave her the right to laugh at him? He glowered at her and her face immediately changed into something more reserved.

 

As the bombs started to shake the shelter, Howard looked at his watch and decided to get some work done whilst he was sat there. Digging in his briefcase, he took out the books he needed to mark, and dug around looking for a pen. After he found one, he opened the first book of many, and began to mark.

 

~~~

 

The bombs continued to rain down, and Howard had nearly finished marking his last book. There was an explosion, closer than the rest, and everyone in the shelter felt the slight tremble of the earth from where the bomb had hit. There were gasps and cries from the people in the shelter, and without any reason, Howard found himself looking at the woman.

 

She seem a little shaken without the company of her rowdy companion, and Howard took some pleasure out of that fact. **Shouldn’t have laughed at me, should you? I would’ve comforted you, but no. Because you felt it was okay to laugh at me, for no reason.**

 

Even after he’d thought it, Howard felt guilt wash over him. What right did he have to be thinking things like that? It wasn’t as though she’d done anything _that_ bad. She looked to him then. Just a simple turn of the head, and their eyes met. Howard could feel the spark of electricity running through him, just from something as simple as looking at each other.

 

The moment was broken by the wailing of the siren, telling people it was safe to come out of the shelter. Howard blinked as though coming out of a trance, and when he looked to his lap for the schoolbook he had been marking, he realised it had fallen from his grasp, onto the floor. Howard realised then that he had no idea how long the two strangers had engaged in a strange embrace of the eyes, but he didn’t intend on staying to find out.

 

Collecting his items together, Howard quickly stood up, and practically ran to the door to get out. Momentarily ignoring his ‘no touching’ rule, he held his breath as he managed to worm his way to the front of the queue of people trying to get out. Ignoring their tuts and cries of digust, he pushed his way quickly through to the outside of the shelter; dragging in lungful’s of air. Howard’s eyes slipped shut, as he tilted his head back to pull fresh air into his lungs, and to clear his head. He fell into a daze, continuing his rhythmic breathing pattern.

 

“Hi.” Howard’s eyes snapped open as he turned around to face the voice.

 

“Oh. Um… hi.” Howard stuttered nervously.

 

“You okay?” The woman whom Howard had been admiring asked him.

 

“Yeah just um… Hah, bit stuffy in there, didn’t fancy hanging around.” Howard laughed humourlessly.

 

“You sure that’s what you were worried about?” Howard nodded, not trusting himself to speak. “Nothing else on your mind.” Howard frowned nervously, shaking his head, wondering where the conversation was going. “So, you mean to tell me that you’ve been stood out here for a good half an hour just because it was a ‘bit stuffy’?”

 

Howard frowned before looking at his watch. His eyebrows shot up in surprise as he realised that he _had_ in fact been stood out here for half an hour. It was only then that he realised it had begun to rain, making the street shine in the dim lamplight, which had returned now the planes had passed by.

 

The woman, still unnamed, bit her lip; her eyes lowered as she dragged the toe of her shoe through the water covering the pavement of the street. “Where you from?” She asked, looking up at him through her fringe; keeping her head lowered slightly, so as to give her a coy look through her thick lashes.

 

“Two streets away.” He answered automatically.

 

“No,” she sighs exasperatedly, rolling her eyes good-naturedly. “I mean originally. That accent isn’t from London is it?”

 

“Oh.” Nobody had ever taken an interest in Howard’s background before, he wasn’t important enough to be considered noteworthy enough for conversation. “I’m from Leeds.”

 

“Yorkshire?” Howard smiled. This young woman knew where Leeds was in Yorkshire. More to the point, she’d _heard_ of it. Howard felt an unexpected flutter in his chest before he chided himself. **Lots of people have heard of it you bumberclaat. It isn’t _that_ impressive that she’s heard of it. **Howard swallowed deeply. He knew it wasn’t that impressive. Yet he still couldn’t shake off the strange fluttery feeling that was making his chest tighten. Maybe there was stray dust around.

 

“Yeah.” Howard replied, somewhat lamely. The young woman, in a seeming bout of confidence, walked forward, linking her arm through Howard’s as though they were a couple.

 

“Come on then Howard. How about you buy me a drink?” She said, smiling prettily up at the teacher; a slight blush colouring her cheeks, as she tugged on his arm slightly.

 

His legs caught up with what was going on, and began moving in the direction of the pub around the corner. His brain joined the proceedings then, so he asked:

 

“Hang on, how did you know my name?”

 

“It’s on your briefcase.”

 

“Oh.”


	2. A Violet By Any Other Name Would Smell As Sweet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The mysterious woman turns out to be even more mysterious... and even more than a woman...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope this chapter lives up to your expectations x

Howard sat down, putting down the whisky he ordered for himself down in front of him, and the gin and tonic down in front of… Howard realised that he still hadn’t learnt her name.

 

“So, are you going to keep me waiting all night?” She looked up at Howard’s seemingly random question, a slight frown momentarily marring her otherwise perfect features. Before he realises what he’s doing, his arm has reached out across the table; his fingers smoothing out the crease formed in the porcelain skin.

 

She blinks, surprised, before smirking at his action; raising an eyebrow at him in question. Blushing, he pulls his hand away, putting it in his lap, his eyes following the movement; belatedly realising what it was he was doing. **Idiot.**

 

“I meant the fact I don’t know your name.” Howard clears up quickly, still blushing furiously at his own actions.

 

When she doesn’t reply after a while, Howard chances a look up at her. She appears to be scrutinising his actions, and when he looks up, Howard can see a decision being made in her eyes. She then leans across the table, grabbing onto a strand of Howard’s hair that was hanging in front of his face, before placing it back on top of his head, with the rest of the unruly mop.

 

Howard feels his blush deepen further. A fact not helped when her hand trails down the side of his face as she pulls away. It’s still not helped when the backs of her fingers brush his cheeks, lingering by his face. Howard doesn’t help by closing his eyes and leaning into the touch ever so gently. He also doesn’t help when he turns his head ever so slightly, so that he can inhale the scent of her wrist where her hand still lingers. She doesn’t help Howard when her breath hitches…

 

“Violet.” Howard’s eyes snap open as he looks at her. Her cheeks are now burning as much as Howards, and she looks as surprised as Howard is by the force with which the word has left her mouth.

 

For Howard, Violet looked stunning, even when flustered and blushing furiously because of her reaction. The forceful exhalation of her name the result of trying to reign in her feelings of passion for Howard Moon. **Monsoon Moon, yessir, that’s right!**

 

It was only then that Howard realised that he was still inhaling Violet’s smell from her wrist. She must’ve noticed at around the same time, as they both managed to pull away simultaneously. Howard felt a rush at the idea that they both had managed to connect in their minds, but then quickly reminded himself how stupid that sounded.

 

In a moment of bravery, Howard picked up his drink and tilted it towards Violet in a toasting gesture. “A beautiful name, for a beautiful lady.” Before taking a sip of his drink, wincing as it burned a pathway through his body.

 

Violet ducked her head impishly, looking up at Howard coyly through her lashes as her cheeks continued to burn violently. **That gesture really is delectable…**

 

“And a handsome man who’s very forward.” Violet raised her glass in reply to Howards, before taking a sip of her own drink. “Thank you for the drink by the way!” And of course, Howard has to go and think of something.

 

“What would your boyfriend say if he knew you were out with strange men, letting them buy you drinks?” Howard can hear how pathetic and childish he sounds, but in the moment he doesn’t care; letting all of the bitterness flow out of him. He has once again fallen for someone already in a relationship. **This is just like Gideon all over again.**

Violet however, merely sits frowning; confusion written all over her face. The usual smooth surface is wrinkled, and Howard can see the cogs turning behind her pretty blue eyes. She shrugs her shoulders at Howard, an apologetic look on her face, as though she doesn’t know who he’s talking about and is _sorry_ about it. Howard can hear the sneer in his own mind, but where he usually disagrees with his mind, he 100% concurs with it on this occasion. **So. She wants to pretend like she doesn’t know. Wants to get Howard Moon in as her _dirty little secret_? I think not.**

“Don’t act coy.” Howard surprises himself with the vehemence in his tone, but is insanely proud of the way his voice doesn’t shake.

 

“Saboo?” She frowned, as though trying to figure out a really tricky crossword clue in the paper.

 

“I don’t want to know his bloody name!” Howard had to fight to keep his voice under control, not wanting to shout and draw attention to himself.

 

“Howard, Saboo is not my boyfriend.”

 

“Well yeah right you would say that.” Howard spat aggressively.

 

Violet seems to think about that remark for a second, her top teeth crewing violently on her bottom lip. Her frown lifts as she seems to come to some sort of conclusion.

 

“Come home with me.”

 

Howard, who had gone to take a drink from his glass, almost spits it back all over himself. He managed to splutter a reply in between his choking, “I’m sorry what?”

 

Violet laughs, and it is not the type of laugh he expected. Howard had been expecting something to match her demeanour; something as cute and perfect as the rest of her. What he didn’t expect however, is for her to throw her head back unconsciously, and a barking laugh to erupt from her red lips; her jaw seemingly moving separately to the rest of her face. The pitch of the laugh is also odd; it’s low, almost like a man.

 

Everything about her is different, her entire body language changed into something slightly more hunched at her broad shoulders; and for a moment, she is almost like a completely different woman. Rather than be put off by such a display however, Howard is even more drawn into this intriguing woman; her unguarded display making Howard feel a rush of affection towards her, making him want to protect and lookout for her, stopping anyone from hurting her. He pushes down the feeling as he remembers why he’s angry with her. **She lied about her boyfriend…**

 

“I fail to see what’s so funny.” Howard snapped, and Violet stopped laughing. An apologetic look gracing her features as she ducks behind her fringe bashfully.

 

“Aw, come on Howard. I’m sorry. I was just laughing because… well because I didn’t mean it to come out sounding like _that_.” She explained, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth nervously.

 

“How did you mean then?” Howard mumbles, looking back down at his practically empty glass.

 

“I’ll show you.”

 

~~~

 

Violet scuffed about outside the door, her keys jangling in the lock as she fumbled in the darkness outside. Without even thinking about it, Howard leaned in to assist her, managing to press himself up against her back, as he smoothly manages to guide her hand, so that she can get the key inserted into the lock.

 

Howard pauses as he realises how close he has become, and Violet turns her head, noticing how Howard’s entire being has managed to tense. Howard turns his head to look at her, and their mouths nearly touch. They stand there for a minute, their breath mingling; Howard can practically taste Violet, yet he is too afraid to make his move. Violet, seemingly sensing his dilemma, goes to close the gap between them.

 

Their lips have barely brushed, before the door is opened, and both of them spring apart guiltily. Howard looks up to see the culprit to who had interrupted them. He is surprised when he sees a short man, in blue robes and a hat which looks like it had been made by wrapping up fabric on the top of his head.

 

“Well are you two coming in, or are you just gonna stand outside in darkness all night?” He lisped, in what Howard assumed to be a North London accent. Then again, he himself was from up North, and so his judgement may have been impaired.

 

“Alright Naboo?” Violet asks, her cheeks flaming as both her and Howard step through the threshold of the shop, before shutting the door. “Saboo about? I need to ask him something.” Naboo nods mutely, before walking over to the bottom of the stairs leisurely. There may not have been any problem in the room, however, Howard feels all tense like a brandy snap.

 

“Um, I like your… hat.” Howard stuttered, trying to diffuse some of his own embarrassment.

 

“It’s a turban, you ballbag.” He lisps, and Howard barely has time to even blink, let alone register the insult, before the man, **(Naboo, was it?)** ,shouted up the stairs. “SABOO?”

 

“Alright, alright. No need to shout.” Came the dreary voice of the man whom Howard had seen with his lovely female companion.

 

“Saboo, are we a couple?” Howard nearly gave himself whiplash with the speed at which his head turns to look at Violet and her blunt question. His eyes wide, and his mouth was open slightly in shock at her lack of subtlety.

 

“Wha… I mean… What are you… Just… What?” Saboo stuttered confusedly. “Are you mentally ill? Why on earth are you even asking me this?”

 

“Yeah what the hell?” Is lisped from over by the stairs. Violet merely rolled her eyes, before cocking her head to the side as she begun to play with her hair; her hip jutted out as she shifted her weight onto one leg before she began speaking to the other men.

 

“Right, well – in case you hadn’t noticed: This” She gestured to Howard, who found himself the focus of the gazes from two men dressed as though they were in children’s stories, “is Howard, and he saw me and Saboo at the siren shelter, that night we went to go and meet Dennis. Anyway, he doesn’t believe me when I say that we are not a couple.” The hatted men, **(Isn’t it considered rude to wear your hat indoors?)** , both make a silent ‘Oh’ with their mouths, their heads doing a sort of slow motion nod.

Saboo looked at Howard dead in the eye then, and simply just said: “No.” Before walking over to a red chair, which looked as though it belonged in a barbers shop, or some sort of shoe shining business. The man in blue moved over to start talking to the man in black, **Naboo?** Violet cleared her throat, drawing Howard’s attention back to her.

 

“Right. Now that’s cleared up…” She walked across the room to the bottom of the stairs, before she turned, looking at Howard, “Coffee?” Howard nodded his head, smiling, feeling as though a massive weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

 

“Yeah sure!” he chirped happily, grinning like a fool.

 

A beaming megawatt smile was what Howard received as he walked over to meet her at the bottom of the staircase. The two just stayed there, grinning like the lovesick fools they were at each other for a while, before Violet turned to ask, “Guys?”

 

Howard turned to look at the two oddly dressed men, recoiling with what he saw, before managing to quickly recover himself. The shorter man of the two, the one in blue robes, was sat in the other’s lap. The man in black, who was actually on the chair, was mumbling sweet nothings into the smaller man’s ear, gently holding his earlobe between his teeth. The man in blue was giggling and sighing like a teenage schoolgirl with her boyfriend; Howard turned to look back at Violet.

 

“Get a room!” She trilled across the shop, before she jerked her head at Howard, signalling that he follow her upstairs. He looked back at the obvious couple again, before stumbling up the staircase behind Violet, and her pert, roun- **Not the time!**

 

“How are they so open about it?” Howard hissed as they reached the landing.

 

“What?” She asked non-committedly as she moved further into the room, Howard following her at a slower pace.

 

“Them… the…” He stopped and made a downwards pointing motion to the shop, as he realised that they might be able to hear. She stopped and turned to face him.

 

“You mean Naboo and Saboo? What about them?” Howard frowned. Did she not realise? Was she really that blind? It seems to strike her then, as her eyes widen to enormous proportions. “OH! You mean because they’re together?” Howard nodded his head, his mouth open in shock at the off-handed tone which Violet was using. Did she not realise that… that…

 

“But… they’re… they’re…” Howard looks behind him conspiratorially, before leaning in close to whisper, “They’re both men.”

 

Violet gave a small smirk, before nodding her head slowly; as though humouring Howard as he was still trying to grasp this new information. “Yes.” She said slowly. “I am aware.”

 

“But how can they walk around London like that and be okay about it?” Howard asked, genuinely confused by how nobody had pulled them out for being _together_ , as Violet had so delicately put it.

 

“Strictly speaking they’re not even human. Besides, they have different things to be worrying about getting caught for.” Howard was still trying to wrap his head around that when he felt Violet’s lips at his neck, kissing and biting her way from the base of his neck, up to his jaw.

 

“Um… What are you…” Howard stuttered nervously. He hadn’t had much experience, and was hoping that it wouldn’t be apparent. **Yeah. Because asking what she’s doing, when it’s so bloody obvious won’t make that fact apparent. Idiot.**

Violet nibbled her way along Howards jaw, coming to a stop at his chin. She shut her eyes, her breath ghosting across his lips with her whispered request of “Relax.”

 

Howard bent down slightly to gain better access to her mouth; even in heels she was a lot shorter than him. He was surprised when it didn’t feel awkward, and even more surprised with how natural it felt to curl one of his hands around her hip. With his left hand, he placed it upon the small of her back, pulling her into him. She rewarded him with a groan into his mouth, her hands gripping his jacket by the top of the arms.

 

Howard’s efforts were rewarded with a drawn out moan, and his hand moved of its own accord, until it had tangled itself in her glorious mane; pulling her head towards him. Violet rewarded him with another groan, and so Howard pulled her in tighter, trying to feel the vibrations throughout every part of his body…

 

But Violet held herself away, wriggling free of Howard’s attempts to try and pull her body flush against his. He sensed something was troubling the younger woman, and so Howard managed to collect his thoughts, and pull back, frowning. Violet gasped out an apology.

 

“I’m sorry… it’s just that… if you’d carried on, I’d… I mean… I would’ve…” Howard grasped her meaning immediately, and instead of filling him with fear like he expected it would, he felt a rush of blood straight down to his groin.

 

“That’s not a problem.” And with the words, Howard had dived straight in at Violet’s neck. He’s not sure where the sudden rush of sexual finesse has come from, but he didn’t question it. Violet’s knees had gone weak with his ministrations, and so Howard slid an arm around her waist, propping her up as he continued to bite and lap at her neck; leaving her a groaning mess.

 

“Oh… Howard.” Howard chuckled deeply, his mouth still against her pulse point, licking and sucking a bruise onto the perfect skin; unable to help himself. She just tasted so bloody good…

 

“What’s up?” Howard mumbled teasingly against her neck, his deep voice having reverberated through her entire body.

 

“This.” Is the moaned response.

 

Taking Howard’s hand, Violet placed it on her crotch… _His_ crotch. Howard pulled back, eyes widened as he felt the hardness beneath his palm, with wetness spreading across the tip. Violet moaned at the contact, her eyelids dropping as her head lolled back slightly; her body awash with the pleasure that Howard had caused, merely with a simple touch.

 

**Him Howard. _She_ is a _he_.**

Howard removed his hands from her– _his_ , body. He stepped away from the young man he had been _sure_ could’ve been the one, had he actually been a woman. All of that is shattered now. Merely the broken glass of shattered love. **Like the broken pieces of your heart.**

 

His eyes open at Howard’s retreat, and Howard cannot believe how beautiful the other man looks, even with rejection written all over his face.

 

“I’m not… I mean, I…” Howard stutters, panicked. The other man’s eyes widen as they realise what he is attempting to stutter out, mortified at his mistake. That’s all Howard took in, before he ran downstairs to pick up his coat and briefcase, and sprinted out of the door.


	3. There Are Tears In My Wine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So he knows... but the other one thinks he already did... even though he didn't... but he does now...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been appalling at writing recently, but that will now change as I got rid of all of my backed up work that was looming, so I am now free to write whenever without being behind on everything else. I apologise for anything incorrect historically in this, or if there are just errors generally. Kittie dear, I hope this cheers you up <3 xx

It’s a week before another siren goes off, and Howard is on his way home. He swears under his breath as he realises that the nearest shelter is the one where he met _‘Violet’_. Howard doubts that that is even his real name. He freezes where he is as he approaches the shelter; noticing immediately the shapely legs and closed off shoes, his eyes travelling up past the deceivingly feminine curved body and up to a head of black straight hair.

 

He watched as _he_ entered the shelter, and was considering standing outside and letting the bombs get him. His plan went to dust the second an air warden pulled him from his stupor.

 

“Come on sir, don’t want to leave you to the bombs now do we?” came her sharp authoritative tone. She left no room for argument as she grabbed his elbow, steering him into the shelter.

 

He was pushed into the stuffy room as the door slammed behind him, leaving no room for escape. All eyes were turned on him as he stood in the doorway, but Howard only paid one of them any mind; the piercing blue set down at the furthest end of the shelter, looking directly into his eyes. Howard unfreezes enough to realise there’s a seat near the door and practically drops into it, grateful that he doesn’t have to be anywhere near _him_.

 

An hour later, with no bombs dropped, the drill ends, and everyone emerged from the shelter. Howard remained seated, no desire to move as the British people go about crowding around the exit, tutting and muttering what a waste of their time this has been. He remained where he was until the shelter cleared, bar one other person.

 

He stayed seated, eyes fixed in front of him. He can feel _his_ eyes on him, but he has no desire to turn and face him. Five minutes pass and from the corner of his eye, Howard can see _him_ stand up. He keeps his gaze fixed where it is, even when the other is stood in front of him.

 

“Uh… Hi.” The younger one started nervously, hands fiddling with the hem of the dress he had on. Howard looked up.

 

“Hi.” He returned; his tone curt and abrupt. A bit unfair really seeing as he’d clearly offended and upset the other man, who had undoubtedly confided an enormous secret with him. **He lied to you though. He never told you, he just let you find out for yourself.**

 

“You ran out on me.” It wasn’t an accusation. It wasn’t a question. It wasn’t anything really, other than an acknowledgement of what had happened. A recap.

 

Howard sighed deeply.

 

“I’m sorry, it was just… It was a lot to take in.” he said, rubbing his hands over his face, the stubble that has grown scratching him.

 

“You haven’t told anyone have you?”

 

Howard frowned as he looked up again. The small voice startling him.

 

“No… why?” He answers, honestly confused.

 

“Not exactly useful.” The other continues in the same small voice.

 

“Wha… I don’t understand.”

 

“Well I’m not like you, am I? I’m not a teacher or nothin’… they’d send me straight to the fight, and I mean look at me. I mean I’m hardly fightin’ material. I’d be shot within an hour of starting.”

 

“Is that how you really talk?" Howard blurted out, the other seemingly startled by the change in conversation.

 

“What? How’d you mean?”

 

“Your voice. You’ve gone all… cockney or something… I dunno.” Howard trailed off, cursing himself for sounding so stupid.

 

His eyes widen as he realises his slip up in his otherwise flawless characterisation.

 

“Um… yes I s’pose it is” he says, returning to his soprano tone, realising their whereabouts.

 

Howard nods non-committedly, and looks back down at his lap. There is an awkward silence in the shelter, as neither man knows what to say. Just as it becomes too much, the other man spoke.

 

“Fancy a drink?”

 

~~~

 

“So, your name is not Violet.” Howard stated, painfully obvious.

 

The other’s mouth twitched as though fighting off a smile as he replied, “Not really no.”

 

Howard nodded slightly, showing he had taken in what the other had said. “Not really… So what is it? ”

 

He grimaced at the question, before replying simply, “Vince.”

 

Howard rolls the thought around in his mind, looking at the other man deeply, trying to decide whether or not it suits him. Howard picks up his whisky and sips, still scrutinising Vince over the top of his glass, in response to which, the younger man blushes and looks at his lap, fluffing up his hair without realising.

 

“What?” Vince asks, realising as he looked up again that Howard was still staring directly at him. Howard shook his head to rid his treacherous thoughts.

 

“Nothing, just… it fits is all.” He mumbled into his glass, taking another drink of his wine. He watches as Vince grimaced, taking a sip of his own wine he had found in the cellar. As he put the drink down in front of him Howard was transfixed by the ruby red colour of the previously pink lipstick.

 

Noticing the direction of Howard’s gaze, Vince’s mouth settled on a smirk; sending Howard into a damn near frenzy. Howard could swear that fate was against him, as it clearly wanted him to do something inappropriate in a public place, seeing as Vince had decided to become extremely erotic. His eyes cast downwards meant that his eyelashes cast shadows across those _oh so prominent_ cheekbones, and with his bottom lip caught in between his teeth, Howard was just about ready to marry him then and there.

 

A soft laugh caught him off-guard and brought him to his senses, noticing as he did so that it was indeed Vince who has laughed. Howard immediately blushed, knowing that Vince had caught him staring and was about to call him out for it.

 

“It doesn’t.” Howard blinked, unclear of what Vince was talking about. As he watched him take another dainty sip of wine, Howard realised.

 

“Maybe you’re right.” Vince blinked. Clearly shocked at Howard disagreeing with his earlier statement so easily. “No name could match up to your beauty.”

 

Vince’s once again wine slicked lips were slowly licked clean as he contemplated Howard. His small pink tongue flicked out to lick away the residue, leaving only the pale pink tint of his lipstick in its wake.

 

Vince’s eyes flickered down to Howard’s mouth, and Howard didn’t need to be asked twice. He leaned in slowly, and oh god he’s going to be kissing him again any second and he can’t wait to have those lips upon his and the things he’s going to do to–

 

“Why did you run away?” Vince asked suddenly. His whispered voice breaking through Howard’s ramblings. He blinked.

 

“What?” He asked stupidly. Vince sighed as he stood up to move over to the window, his back to Howard as he started biting his perfectly manicured nails.

 

“I need to know. Why did you run away?” Vince was insistent, and Howard didn’t understand.

 

“Because you’re a man?” Howard asked, still confused about the sudden Spanish-bloody-Inquisition he’s being held object to.

 

“I’m still a man now. What’s changed?” Vince’s tone had become hard, as though he needed this answer.

 

“Well… I know you’re a man this time.” Howard answered, perfectly reasonably, as though it were obvious.

 

“You honestly mean to tell me that you didn’t already know?” Vince spun round.

 

“Yes. I mean no. I mean…” Howard sighed as he ran his hands through his hair exasperatedly, before continuing. “I didn’t know you were a man, no.”

 

Vince snorted a disbelieving laugh at that and Howard frowned, giving a bewildered “What?” in question.

 

“You didn’t know. Sure. Course you didn’t.” Was the answer which Vince gave, his tone sceptical and unbelieving. Howard frowned at the insinuation behind his voice.

 

“I didn’t!” He objected.

 

“Right.” Was the harsh reply.

 

“Why don’t you believe me?” Howard was just as surprised as Vince was by the hurt lacing his words, if Vince’s raised eyebrows were anything to go by. Howard didn’t know when it became so important for him that Vince trusted him, but the proof is in how he’s feeling. Vince not believing him was like someone squeezing his heart, and Howard didn’t know if he could bear Vince not believing him.

 

“Why don’t I believe you? Because it’s so fucking obvious! How could anyone think that I’m a woman? People choose to ignore it. And the people that do think I’m a woman? Don’t find me attractive. Because I make one seriously ugly woman, and you cannot have been attracted to me, unless you knew that this was a get up, and that hiding underneath all of these layers…” he gestured to his entirely feminine attire, “…was a man.”

 

“No, actually. I didn’t think that. Not for a second. The first time I saw you, I thought that you were the single most beautiful creature I had ever laid eyes on. As a _woman_. I never thought you were a man, because why the hell would I? You look bloody _perfect_ as a woman, and even though I’m sure, you are perfect as a man too, I never saw that. I saw a woman sat with a man, who I thought she was going out with. You seriously think you don’t look like a woman? Well if you did, then why haven’t they sent round the forces? They’d have picked you up ages ago if they’d even _suspected_ that there was someone who hasn’t conscribed yet. And as for ugly?” Howard’s voice, raised throughout his rant, dropped to a whisper, “Man or woman, I’ve never met anyone more beautiful.”

 

Vince stood where he was, his back to Howard again as he looked out of the window. He was silent for so long, that Howard began to wonder if he had heard any of it, let alone what he had whispered. He was about to ask Vince if he was okay, when the younger man turned to face him, tears streaking down his feminine face as he looked at Howard dead in the eye.

 

“Get out.”

 

Howard stood there, speechless for a moment, before angrily storming out of the flat.


	4. How could I ever have left you?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Is storming out at night in wartime London really the best idea?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been shit at updating and I'm sorry... x

Howard had never been more mortified in his life. He had poured his heart out, and in return been told to leave. He slammed the door as he left, making sure that everyone around him knew he was angry. Not that anyone cared. Nobody cared.

 

He stormed down the street, but his anger was quickly fading. His thoughts remained with a curved behind, shapely thighs and a simply beautiful face. Vince was by no means conventionally pretty, but his striking features had Howard under a spell.

 

It didn’t take long for Howard’s anger to disappear after he began walking in the slight drizzle that had started up; still walking back along Vince’s street. Howard’s thoughts being with what Vince had shouted at him serve to both calm his anger off and start it up again for an entirely different reason.

 

Ugly. Vince had called himself ugly. He had told Howard to get out because he thought he was lying when he called him beautiful. That information hurt worse than anything Vince could’ve shouted at him, and lead to him leaning against a wall in support as he started crying; the frustration towards Vince making itself known, for the man couldn’t see his own self-worth – something which Howard wanted to help Vince with greatly.

 

The tears escalate until Howard is sobbing in the street, the fear of having lost Vince all too real; as real as the sound of sirens blaring out over London.

 

 

Howard hiccupped his sobs to a halt as he took in that information; unsure of how long the sirens had been wailing, but suddenly very aware that they were. He stood up, wiping his eyes clear of his tears and gathering his thoughts together. The nearest shelter is two streets away, and if he runs he can probably make it.

 

His hopes of running to the nearest shelter are dashed as he is suddenly thrown into darkness. His heart stops. This isn’t just darkness; it’s pitch black. Howard’s mind is filled with dread as he realises what it is that’s happening. **Black out.** Not one single light in London is left on, and as Howard’s pupils struggle to cope with this change, it has become clear that he needs a plan b – and fast.

 

Howard knows he needs a bomb shelter, but he also has no way of finding and getting to a public one safely; it’s far too dark for that now. Howard’s frazzled mind searches for what feels like hours, when in reality it is only seconds, before he comes up with a plan.

 

Reaching out for the wall he was leaning on just moments ago, Howard starts to move his way along the street slowly; using the support of the wall for guidance. He trails his hands along the rough brick, scratching at his fingertips lightly as he tries to find the next house along, hoping to ask for shelter in their garden. He moves slowly down the street, through the use of touch alone; the brick of the wall keeping him steady and upright. Until his hand slips.

 

He falters as his hand comes across nothing, with the wall having disappeared from next to him. Howard’s reactions aren’t quick enough to keep himself from falling as he loses his balance, falling into a gap where the wall once was, but has ended. Howard lifts his head, but of course he can’t see anything, and any sense of direction he once had had been lost when he fell; not sure if the wall behind him now was the same one he had been leaning on, or if it was the turn off that he had fallen into.

 

Having effectively disorientated himself, Howard tries to pull the rest of his upper body up off the ground. He remembers the alleyway he and Vince had walked through to get to the street and curses as he realises that that is where he is currently residing. A dodgy little alleyway, awaiting the bombs to start.

 

Hearing the planes overhead, he allows himself to start sobbing, knowing there is no way for him to be helped now. Even if he did manage to find a house, everyone would most likely already be in their own shelters already, unable to hear him at the door from their places in the garden. Swinging his legs round so they’re in front of him, and leaning back against a wall, Howard puts his head to his knees; allowing himself to give up hope. He knows that his life is vulnerable and fragile out in the open, and so doesn’t trick himself into thinking that he’ll be okay.

 

A whistling sound starts up, before explosions are heard all over London. The bombs begin dropping faster, and the whistling sound increases as more bombs are dropped more frequently. As they descend, making their way to destroy the skyline of London, they mark the end of their fall with light patches that fill up London with orange hues. Howard’s head is off of his knees, and staring in a terrified wonder at the sight; something he hoped never to see, and wondering just how many lives the burnt looking lights in the sky signify. He can’t help but pray to anyone that the people he loves are safe.

 

Howard gasps, as it is with this thought that Vince pops up in his head. The thought of Vince being harmed makes Howard heart clench in fear; he could never let his love come in harm’s way. Howard’s emotions hit him full pelt. The emotion Howard feels for the other man is as clear as anything to Howard when confronted with the thought of him in danger. He finds how little he cares over an emotion, that is considered wrong by everyone between two men; instead accepting at face value his feelings, a first for him. The thought of Vince being hurt ensures Howard’s emotions stay wrapped around his heart like the strings of a parachute.

 

Howard begins to wonder what would happen with Vince if ever he were to be bombed that night. Would Vince move on? Find someone else? Howard’s fear of him being hurt becomes an enraged jealousy at the thought of him with someone else. And yet, if Vince was happy, Howard thinks he could find it in his heart to forgive him and move on, as long as he was unscathed. Closing his eyes, Howard prays for him, whispering nothing more than one small word into the cold night air; the rest of the chaos around him going on unheard. Whispering one name into the night of London in the hopes that it may be kept safe, and the man alongside it kept safe also.

 

“ _Vince._ ”

 

Howard is aware of pain. Nothing but pain, as a tremendous heat flares up beside him, throwing him sideways with its force. The prayer to keep Vince safe clearly having worked; however, having stolen Howard’s wellbeing in order to do so. He thinks he may just be okay with that, to keep the raven haired beauty alive and well.

 

As Howard’s senses catch up to him, he can feel searing agony throughout his entire body. Lifting his head, he sees the area surrounding him surrounded in an orange glow; the same orange glow he witnessed from afar just moments ago. The skin of his arms covered in flecks of red amongst brown dust and rubble surrounding and piled on top of him. The debris scattered around him and the dust still raining down gives clue to Howard that there was a bomb blast; the glass having torn through his paper thin flesh.

 

There is ringing in only one of his ears; wincing, Howard lifts a hand up to check the ear not ringing. Feeling a warm wetness, he withdraws his hand to look at it. Blood. A lot of blood. His eardrum must’ve burst due to being so close to the blast. Exhaustion and fatigue come paired with the aches that he can feel, and so he places his head back down, so that everything around him will stop spinning.

 

He lies in the street, his hearing slowly returning in his one working ear; the sounds of planes and bombs and sheer bloody terror filling the night. Howard’s trembling and frail form is so unimportant in the grand scheme of things, he asks himself if anyone would notice if he were to just lay there for days on end, surrounded by the wreckage from someone else’s home. His unstable mind jumps around, asking questions.

 

**Who even knows I’m here? Are the people whose house it was okay? Let them be okay. Is Vince okay? Vince.**

 

That special someone fills his mind more and more as his consciousness slips further and further away from him, even in his worse for wear state finding it in himself to take the time to think of someone other than himself. He attempts to open his eyes to stop himself from slipping away, yet before he can fully open his eyes, liquid sweeps over his vision, leaving it blurred as the flow continues to make its way down his face. Lifting his hand once more, Howard can make out a gash just at the edge of his hairline, bleeding profusely; leaving him, effectively, unable to see. With his sight impaired, Howard closes his eyelids in order to stop the sting from the liquid seeping into his eyes.

 

Because of the ringing in his ears, Howard fails to make out a voice calling his name; a male voice tinged with fear and panic, a voice he has come to love so dearly. The voice he both craves so dearly and wants to send away to ensure its owner’s safety.

 

The shivering wreck of a human is too far gone in his own head to fully comprehend the situation he is in; and any attempt of him trying to speak results in a faint unintelligible croak. The impact of being thrown sideways out of an alleyway leaving him an unmoving form buried beneath rubble, only able to slightly shift his body even with full effort.

 

The tiniest shift in the rubble seems to be enough though, as Howard becomes aware of the bricks and tile being lifted off of him. His awareness starts to trickle back in as the weight on him becomes less, before he feels someone grabbing onto his jacket and pulling at him. Panic sets in, his only thoughts being fear of impending death by whoever is pulling his jacket. The fear surrounding him of a complete stranger touching him, yet he is too weak to do anything other than beg for his life in a blind panic; transferring all remaining energy in his body to do so.

 

“Please! Don’t kill me. I’ve got so much to give!” he practically screams as he starts sobbing, the panic and disorientation too much for the injured man to handle, as his hearing and vision fail him slightly. The mere thought of not being able to see his love again making him break out in sheer bloody terror. He begins to quietly sob, not even questioning lunacy of his own thoughts; the shock of the bomb not allowing him to rationalise that someone taking him out of a bomb site to kidnap him and kill him during a raid is unlikely. Very unlikely. Ridiculously unlikely.

 

“’Oward you fool, shut up and lift yourself. Way too heavy for me to do this alone, ya bumberclaat!” Through the ringing and rushing blood of his one remaining good ear, Howard still manages to identify the voice. **Vince.** The most precious sound filtering in through his hazy and foggy mind, filling him with a warm and safe feeling.

 

“Vince…” Howard breathes out.

 

“Yes, it’s me. Wonderful. Now lift yerself up so I can save yer fat arse.” And yet, all the bravado and sarcasm couldn’t hide the worry and self-loathing in Vince’s tone, Howard remaining oblivious to it in his half-conscious state. Howard’s relief courses through him, closing his eyes in pure relief his angel is okay. His cheek is slapped gently a couple of times, Howard opening his eyes in confused hurt at the man who’s come to his aid.

 

“Don’t want ya to close yer eyes…” When Howard continues to look confused, Vince elaborates. “Makes me nervous you ain’t gonna open ‘em…” and oh. **Oh.** Vince blushed lightly as he looked down, and Howard felt a wave of sadness for making Vince feel like that. His thoughts of the fight earlier spring to mind, reminding Howard.

 

From his still seated position, with Vince’s arm wrapped around his ribcage and one of his arms around Vince’s shoulders, he takes his other arm to cup the side of Vince’s face. Vince stops attempting to get harry up off the ground, and instead stops straining to look at him in shock; the tender touch from Howard being quite unexpected after what happened in the flat, and given Howard’s disorientated self.

 

“Don’t… put y-yourself… down” Howard manages to gasp out, the pain in his ribs more prominent from his seated position, the pain making it difficult to breathe. As he’s gazing into Vince’s eyes, he notices the moment they fill with water. He opens his mouth to say something, before another blast goes off, close enough to them to make them both jolt out of the unexpected, tender moment the two had been sharing.

 

“Gotta get you back to Naboo.” He hears Vince croak, his voice husky with emotion. “He’ll know what to do!” Howard feels Vince’s grip shift to under his arms, gently but firmly. He feels Vince go to push up, and so weakly lifts himself the best he can. As he gets mainly upright, Vince stumbles under the amount of Howard’s weight he is currently burdening.

 

“S-sorry.” Howard grits out through his teeth, the pain still great. Vince gives him a look though that shuts him up. The sound of the emergency services are heard, and Vince’s look changes to one of panic as he begins to drag Howard along beside him towards the shop. Howard’s exhaustion is clear, his head lolling forward and half asleep. He can vaguely hear Vince mutter something under his breathe, yet the deafness in his left ear where Vince is means he misses it.

 

Had his senses not failed him, Howard would’ve heard Vince, as he said “Shouldn’t have let you go, you’re too precious to me.”


End file.
